Picture
by wicherwill
Summary: Why Tomoyo records everything...it delves deep into first memories and family. One-shot. ExT.


A two-year-old Toyota swerved around the parking lot of a park, choosing a space secluded and a ways away from the rest. 

"'Tou-san, why are we parked so far away?" The dark-haired man pointed upwards, to the maple tree above them. 

"It's so the car won't be too hot when we come back, Tomoyo-chibi," he said, opening the door and swinging the little girl round and round in circles, as she shrieked in pure delight. The last door opened, and a brown haired woman stepped out, shaking her head. 

"You're going to spoil her, treating her like a queen," and words notwithstanding, took her daughter and placed her on her hip, although it was well known that the youngest Daidouji had been able to walk from the age of 18 months. He shook his head. 

"I could never spoil Tomoyo-chibi, she's too polite and refined. Although she deserves the very best we could give her," he punctuated the statement by glancing up from Tomoyo to his wife, whose eyes immediately hardened. 

"Hiro, I don't want to talk about that today," Tomoyo glanced between her mother and her father, thoughtful, but cleared her face the minute her mother directed her attention to her, "Ne, Tomoyo-chan, where shall we eat?" 

~*~ 

Daidouji Tomoyo ran to a patch of wild flowers as her parents set up their small picnic site. She twirled around, feeling the material of her brand new dress swish against her legs. _Her_ dress, not 'kaa-san's, or Nadeshiko-oba-san's… it was her brand new dress, and that was something to be very happy about. If that wasn't enough, 'kaa-san had declared a picnic holiday for _two_ whole days just to celebrate. 

She choose a spot and sat down carefully, as to not damage the dress, and deftly picked a few flowers with fingers certainly too long and slender to belong to a five-year-old. She began braiding them, like her Great-Grandfather had shown her, because, according to him, "little girls need naught do anything but run around with smiles on their faces and flowers in their hair," and she was more than willing to do just that. 

The minute she finished the last knot, someone came behind her and lifted her hair from her neck. The gentle breeze was refreshing, and with a few nimble twists and turns, Sonomi pinned her daughter's hair up and placed the flower garland so that it came over the right side of her forehead. 

"Honto kawaii, Tomoyo-chan!" Tomoyo giggled and smiled. 

"Arigato, okaa-san," Sonomi nodded in approval at the reduced appearance of the slight lisp that had impaired her daughter's speech. 

"Come, let's eat!" Tomoyo skipped alongside her mother, and plopped down on the blanket. She played with a few of the strings unravelling from the sides, until her father plopped down a plate of tanuki noodles. 

"Itadakimasu!" Tomoyo took a bite of the thick noodles, savouring the taste. 

"Well, Tomoyo-chibi, what have you learnt this week?" Tomoyo swallowed before speaking. 

"Madame Julia said we went over the sub-junc-tive in French, and more of the past verbs in German, plus more of the proper use of punctuation in English – 'kaa-san, you were right, English does not make any sense – and then Hu-sensei said I was doing well in Mandrain," she finished with a smile and looked expectantly at her father. 

"It's Mandarin, chibi, but that's all well. Now…_est-ce que tu veux une autre boire_?" 

Sonomi watched as her husband put the fruits of her daughter's private tutors to test. Daidouji was a well-known and respected name; consequently, it was filled with old blood money. 

"Ne, Hiro, let's not overwork Tomoyo on her celebration! Tomoyo, umeboshi?" As she busied herself with doling out the plum dish, Tomoyo began to sing softly. 

"U-me-bo-shi! Ta-nu-ki! I fill up my whole tummy!" Sonomi didn't quite understand the second, foreign, language, but she stopped immediately. 

"Tomoyo-chan!" the little girl jumped, startled, but her mother just continued, "you've never really sung before! Your voice – it's very good!" Tomoyo flushed. 

"Julia-sensei said the same thing…really?" Before an enthusiastic Sonomi could answer, Hiro jumped in. 

"Hon-to ne, Tomoyo-chibi…we have to get her lessons and training. One of my sisters knows this great lady…" Hiro tapered off, not even noticing Sonomi's gaze grow dim again. 

"Hai, I'm sure," she said, bringing out a box, "cake time!" 

Tomoyo picked up her fork and cut out a big piece. Halfway through her mouth, and the many layers started to collapse. In a hurry, she cupped her hand around it. For a lack or better things to do, she just began to eat out of her hand. Sonomi reached over with a napkin, and then there was a flash. Tomoyo blinked and saw her father with their camera, smiling. 

"Sorry…that was just too cute." 

"KAWAII!" Both adults appeared stunned for a second at the amount of sheer decibel force that issued out the tiny girl. Sonomi was the first to recover. 

"Yes, Tomoyo-chan, kawaii." Tomoyo smiled. 

"Nadeshiko-oba-san was kawaii, right?" a small, sharp intake of breath followed. Sonomi mastered it after a moment and replied, 

"Yes, Tomoyo, Nadeshiko was kawaii." 

"Why can't we see oba-san?" Hiro interjected before they breached the delicate subject. 

"How about we take a photo of all of us?" Tomoyo clapped her hands and nodded. Hiro looked down at the camera, and frowned. 

"The film ran out; there's no more pictures left." Sonomi reached for her bag. 

"Didn't we…bring…?" Hiro groaned. 

"I left it in the car…down at the camping ground parking lot H. Because," he focused on Sonomi, "it was cheapest." 

"Oh. Well, that's okay," she replied, rather quickly. Tomoyo looked up from her mother's lap. 

"We can't take a picture?" Hiro walked towards his daughter and kneeled in front of her. 

"It's okay, Tomoyo-chibi, there'll be plenty more times for pictures. I promise." 

"Pinky promise?" Hiro laughed and went to put away the picnic basket. 

~*~ 

Tomoyo sat on the bed, her own bed, in her own room. This sort of thing only happened when they were at the Daidouji vacation house, and she was relishing the way that everything seemed so…_right_ for her, her size and whatnot. 

Her needle moved in and out the peacock blue fabric, creating small, sharp yellow stitches that would serve as basting. Nimbly tying and cutting off the thread, she turned it inside out to reveal a simple dress. Tomoyo laid it out and clasped her hands. It was almost finished; all it needed was a few bows _here_ and some lace around _here_… 

She gathered up the material and stood on her tiptoes to open the door. She was a small, thin thing, and 'kaa-san had always worried that she wasn't eating enough. Great Grandfather had quashed the idea, telling her that all Amamiya ladies grew at the ages of eight, fourteen, and seventeen. She padded across the wooden floor in her little kid slippers, towards her parents' room. She was about to open the door when she caught the argument coming from within. 

"Why the hell did you reject the job? You know that was the damn best chance we had to go up in life!" 

"Hiro, you know I left Amamiya Corporations to leave the posh, spoiled life I led! If I take that job and you get that promotion, you know as well as I that _Tomoyo will suffer!_" 

"Tomoyo deserves the best! You owe it to her to give that much to her!" 

"Tomoyo deserves out attention! Do you honestly believe that if you got that job you would spend a weekend playing in a damn garden?!" 

"Do you honestly believe that if you continue to sit at home like an idiot that Tomoyo will have half of what she deserves?" 

"She needs _us_, Hiro. She needs her father and mother to be with her, to not desert her." 

"What difference does it make? You don't have a job, and you still deserted your cousin Nadeshiko." 

"Hiro, _don't go there_." 

"She died and you never visited her." 

"Hiro, I'm warning you!" 

"What use was it to be not tied down if you couldn't make that visit to her? The one who _really_ holds that dear place in your heart?" 

"Hiro, get out." There was a shuffling sound. 

"You know, that's just what I'm going to do. I've wanted nothing more since you showed your true colours. You married me for my money, didn't you?" 

"Out!" There was a thwack sound, like a fist hitting a face squarely. 

"You can't divorce me, you know as well as I that you don't have the money." 

"I don't care _what_ I do, but I will get rid of you. Get out now." The door burst open and Tomoyo gasped at the sight of her usually tranquil father, enraged with a bloody nose. His eyes glanced over to where she was standing, and she made to go to him. He put his hand out. 

"Get away from me." Tomoyo recoiled, tears shining in her eyes. Amethyst eyes meeting sapphire ones that seemed surprised at their actions. 

And then, as if in slow motion, Daidouji Hiro turned away from his daughter and out the door. Tomoyo sat on the floor, watching the door. This wasn't true, this wasn't happening. Her otou-san had _not_ just left. And then from a face that had been so shielded from pain and suffering, a single tear fell onto the floor. Sonomi came over to where her daughter was sitting and took her into her lap. Tomoyo leant her head back onto her mother's chest and cried softly. 

For herself, for her 'tou-san, for her 'kaa-san, and for the life that she, as a small, innocent, five-year-old, knew was gone forever. 

~*~ 

The first thing that Tomoyo remembered after that was going home and going to pre-school. It was then that she saw her mother in the evening, when they would talk over dinner, and Sonomi would fall asleep before her daughter. 

Then one day Sonomi came home later than usual and dropped a wrapped present in front of her daughter. 

"Open it," she said, and Tomoyo found a shiny video camera. 

"Cherish it, so that you always have memories." And she did, as she realized the meaning behind her mother's words. And she realized the torture that she was going through as dinners became sparse and houses became bigger and Tomoyo learnt names of maids, bodyguards, cooks, and they knew her better than her mother. 

And the two of them looked around one day, and Sonomi realized that she had become just what Hiro had left her for. So she worked even harder, and left her daughter even more. 

And all Tomoyo had were her memories of days gone by. 

~* Epilogue of Sorts *~ 

"Hoe! Tomoyo-chan, there must be something better to video that me!" Tomoyo shook her head, and then returned her eye to her camera. 

"There's nothing as kawaii as Sakura-chan!" Tomoyo followed her until she stopped at the curb at Syaoran met her, and they went off on a date. Tomoyo sighed and put her new camera down, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she saved the latest file. Footsteps sounded behind her, and she turned around to see Eriol. 

"Konbawa, Tomoyo." 

"Konbawa, Eriol." He walked closer, and put a hand out to the camera, "May I?" Tomoyo hesitated. 

"Ano…" 

"Why do you feel you must record everything?" Tomoyo looked up into sapphire eyes, so like the ones she used to know. 

"Because…because one day it will all be gone, and all I'll have will be memories." She wished that he would take the traditional hidden meaning, that Sakura would one day leave, but Eriol was very perceptive. He tilted the Tomoyo's head up, and she looked into his eyes. Eyes that betrayed the same emotion that once, long ago, she had always associated with sapphire. Tomoyo fought the urge to recoil, fought the instinct that told her that soon these eyes would bring her world crashing down. 

"A very wise person once said carpe diem. Seize the day. You can't relish in the past." Tomoyo looked up. 

"Carpe Diem?" and with a smile she reached up and sealed the distance between them, her camera dropping to the sidewalk with a *smash* that echoed throughout the small alley they were in. 

Cause for the second time, her world was crashing down upon her. 

And it felt wonderful. 

~*~ 

**AN**: I'm not terribly pleased with the Epilogue of Sorts, and not with the scene before that, although I definitely like that better. This came out of three things: her obsession with taping, the line in the manga where Sakura wonders about Tomoyo's father, and my own kinda-phobia and obsession with all things memory-ish. Pictures, signatures, scrapbooks, movie tickets, birthday cards…I understand Tomoyo's fears, in a very real way. I'm slightly terrified that one day I'll wake up and someone I care about will be gone, or something I wanted to do will disappear, or an opportunity will vanish. 

As always, reviews are wonderful and whatnot. 

-wicherwill ^_^ 


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